


Seal the Windows, Lock the Doors, but Still the Wind Gets In

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Body Horror, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Dullahan - Freeform, Ghosts, Kinda, Like, M/M, Mild Gore, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Character Death, but he comes back in a way, finn's horse is named prince btw, hes dead, someone help me i have no clue what im doing anymore, yeah im just having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: F|He's been doing this for a long time; for lifetimes, for eons, for as long as death itself has existed. In all that time, no dullahan has encountered a human who hangs around after their name is called.Or: the dullahan Finn au no one asked for





	Seal the Windows, Lock the Doors, but Still the Wind Gets In

The rain falls in sheets, hammering against the pavement. The sun isn’t visible, has long since decided to dip beneath the skyline. The sun is painted in shades of red and orange, almost like someone set the whole sky on fire.   
  
A shadow bleeds into the road, the dying light blocked. A man on a horse stands amid the shrubbery, the horse scraping the ground with her hooves impatiently. The horse is blacker than midnight, blacker than death, with eyes glowing white like disease. The man is wiry and muscular, dressed in a leather jacket and torn jeans tucked into buckled boots that reach his knee, worn with age and use. His head, adorned with a thin beard, piercing blue eyes, and topped with brown hair, is hanging from his belt loop by a thin chain welded into his neck, the wound an angry red.   
  
The horse huffs and flicks her head, sending hair of shadows and green fire fluttering into the dead wounds in her flesh. The man smoothes a hand down her neck and makes a soft clicking noise with his teeth. She seems to roll her eyes. Still, she calms, though she shifts from foot to foot occasionally.   
  
The rain sizzles and steams where it comes into contact with the sickly green flames burning where the man’s head should be sitting on the sickened stump of his neck. The flames cast a soft light, and the same flames and light floods from the man’s eyes and mouth. A smell akin to burning flesh, something sickening, something almost sweet in its sickness, stings throughout the air.   
  
After a moment, the man grabs his head by the hair and takes it off his belt loop, holding it aloft in his hand. He opens his mouth, letting light flood out, and inhales sharply.   
  
“Seth. Tyler. Rollins.”   
  
His voice is pleasant, a little sweet, coated in a thick Irish brogue. The smile on his lips never wavers, undying, grim and sick and twisted. The air falls silent, like the insects and animals can’t bring themselves to make noise.   
  
There’s a shout in the distant, a bloodcurdling shriek in horror. The man waits for a moment before rehooking his head, nodding the stump of his neck, and rides off.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm beefbrose on Tumblr! Come bug me!  
> Title credit to Dullahan by Sam Kelly


End file.
